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Tuesday, April 17, 2018

Currently Reading: Beyond Scandal and Desire (Sins for All Seasons #1) by Lorraine Heath

Hello friends! Something strange is in the air... I'm reading historical romances and, for the most part, I'm enjoying the heck out of them! I have had to put one book aside because it's just not clicking with me, but that's a different book for a different day. Today I wanted to share part of a scene from Lorraine Heath's Beyond Scandal and Desire, the first book in her Sins for All Seasons series. In this scene, our hero and heroine are having a rather cute discussion about the ins and outs of parasols. Enjoy!

"How many languages do you speak?" she asked, catching him off guard with the change in topic. Was she trying to discern where he'd been educated? The rookeries had been his classroom, poverty and vulnerability his harsh tutors. He'd learn their lessons well. They'd never again threaten to break him.

"The Queen's English." He could speak a few words of other languages, enough to communicate with laborers when needed, but mentioning them might put her in the mood to test him, and he wasn't going to show himself lacking in any regard. Although he'd never seen the advantage to boasting. Better to keep one's talents close to the vest. "You?"

"Five," she said blithely. "English, of course. French. Handkerchief, fan and parasol."

He stared at the impish smile she gave him. It transformer her face into rare beauty, something that went beyond the surface. He had no desire to be intrigued or mesmerized by her teasing - no one dared tease him - yet she seemed completely unaware of the danger he presented. "I beg your pardon? Handkerchief, fan, parasol?"

"Any lady of good breeding knows them. Did you not teach them to your sister when you gifted her with the parasol?"

"I am not a lady of good breeding."

Her smile deepened, causing a strange sensation in his chest, something he'd experienced once when a large wooden crate had toppled onto him. It had been terribly unpleasant, then. It wasn't so much now, and yet he still found it difficult to breath. "No, I supposed you're not. Do you see that couple walking over there, the lady in the purple gown, the gent with the gray cravat? Her parasol rests against her left shoulder. She's displeased with him. He's sad something that upset her."

"Perhaps it keeps the sun out of her eyes better on that side."

She laughed lightly. "My dear sir, carrying a parasol has little to do with the sun."